Arrows, sunsets, and something to argue about
by Polemokrateia
Summary: So, Basara! Motonari is clearly not the type to value cooperation and unity. Motochika, however, is. But we need that parable about arrows, right? It's fun. So, have a weird discussion between the two, with one being just the tiniest bit... ghostly. Also, how many hells can a person actually qualify for simultaneously? Inquiring minds want to know!


Most of the time, the sea was Chosokabe Motochika`s staunchest ally. Ever mercurial, never yielding, it could sweep his mind clean of confusion as if by a spell.

Most of the time.

Ah, what he would not give for a clear mind right now. As things stood, the daimyo was in turmoil, and neither the company of his friends nor Setou Inner`s cool murmurs could put him at ease.

Losing an enemy will do that to a man, he mused.

Not that he did not expect Motonari to die by either poison or illness. That seemed perfectly appropriate. But still - so soon? How old was he?

Time gets confusing when there is war.

So. part of the sea demon brooded. Another part adjusted plans in accordance with the new circumstances. Yet another part... It wondered. It boiled with questions that would never be answered.

Sunset found the pirate lord idly practicing archery alone, under the cover of seaside rocks. An old, decrepit torii gate, it`s wood rotten to the core, was his only company. Save for...

Save for a certain ghost clad in pale green.

The late lord of the Mori clan seemed as aimless and bored as Motochika himself. He was watching the sun set through the torii, not ignoring his still-living enemy per se, but pointedly not acknowledging him either.

Well, if he doesn`t want to be the one to start the conversation, that`s fine, probably not good for a restless spirit to do that anyway.

\- What are you doing here?

\- I could ask the same of you.

At this, the pirate crosses his arms and sighs in exasperation.

\- I`m not the one who`s supposed to be dead, you know.

\- But you are the reason why I am not as dead as advertised, - comes the cold answer.

\- How?

\- Attachments. Unresolved conflict. You just would not let go.

\- Me? Does it work that way? I would wager the problem is actually on your side.

\- Think whatever you like. I am not lying.

\- But you have a reason to. And no reason to hurry to whatever place of punishment you are to be assigned to. Or are you bound for a tour of all the hells in order?

\- Oh, there are so many varied, even incompatible ones, that getting such a tour would have taken some very creative sinning. I wonder if there is even a way. In theory...

The tactical genius begins murmuring something to himself - conflicting lists of hells, conditions for getting consigned to this one or that one...

\- Are you seriously considering what it would take to get into every hell there is?

\- You suggested the notion yourself. It is a stimulating mental exercise, as a matter of fact.

\- Will you get lost?

Motonari shrugs. Chosokabe considers calling an exorcist, but... no, not desperate enough just yet. And, he must admit, there were things he wanted to say.

\- What a sad excuse for a ghost you are. No friends to haunt, so you annoy an enemy. Never were a people person, were you?

\- If I were to purposefully haunt anywhere, your lair would be far from my first choice.

\- Places, not people. Figures.

He is silent for some time, but eventually turns to Aki`s former ruler again.

\- What kind of human being simply chooses to view everybody else as either an enemy or pawn? Even the most insufferable pieces of shit can have friends, or respect their mentors, or some other sign they are made of flesh and blood, not stone.

\- And, in the end, lose sight of their own aims.

\- Or one can find people with similar ones.

\- Those are temporary allies, and to be discarded when no longer useful. No two men can have coinciding goals for very long.

\- It does not work that way. Sometimes people just stick together through thick and thin, and lend each other strength, and it does not have to end in backstabbing.

\- Much more often, they eventually find themselves on opposing sides in a conflict, or one becomes subject to the other`s will, and, thus, a pawn.

Tired of such circular reasoning, the pirate lifts an arrow from the ground. He offers it to Motonari.

\- Take it and break it.

But Motonari can`t, and his fingers merely go through the fletching.

Not bothering with an apology, Motochika breaks the arrow himself. Then another one. Then a third. Finally, he takes three arrows together, and makes a show of being unable to break them.

\- You are not trying very hard, - the ruler of Aki mocks.

\- Because that`s not the point.

\- I surmised as much. The point is supposed to be that multiple arrows are more difficult to break when they are together than separately. But that is simplistic thinking. For instance... open your fist.

Chosokabe does so, and the arrows, released, fall on the ground with a dull rattling. Free. Separate.

\- This was counterpoint one. Once the adversarial force that had held the shafts together ceased it`s influence, they were free to fall where they may. And now, before I present the second counterpoint, answer this: what is the purpose of an arrow?

\- To wound or kill, of course.

\- Precisely. To use it for it`s intended purpose, one takes the arrow out of it`s quiver, puts it on the bowstring, bends the bow, takes aim - and shoots. A single arrow every time. It is possible to use two or three at once, but that is little more than a trick for the easily impressed, and of little practical consequence. An arrow in flight, one that truly matters - is always alone.

\- That`s what I get for trying to argue philosophy with you of all people. This explanation smells fishy, but I have no proof besides my gut feeling.

The sea demon throws a glance at the rotten, unpainted torii, and suddenly grins.

\- On the other hand, with a tongue like that you might get even Enma-ou to buy your bullshit, so the sentence might yet be shorter than expected.

The thought, unexpectedly, makes him feel better. As does the quiet disappearance of the ghost.

Here and now, when the horizon is scarlet with the sun`s blood, seagulls keep crying on top of their lungs, and broken arrows litter the ground - all seems well, all seems as it should be.

\- See you in the hells, bastard, - the living daimyo promises his dead enemy.

There is laughter in the wind.


End file.
